


Altissean Fairytale

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Fluff, M/M, fairytale, merfolk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13033995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: It had been years since Ignis had last been to Altissia. He had almost forgotten about the strange friend he had made there when he was a child.





	Altissean Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).



The first time he had seen the city of Altissia, he hadn’t known what to make of it. From the ferry, the city appeared to rise in layers on the water; great towering structures of stone and brick settled above the cascading walls of water, glittering in the sun like a polished pearl. The freshness of the sea-salt air and the cacophony of rushing waters and shouting from boats and the street— the musicians on the tourist docks, in the plazas, the showmen and buskers and the merchants all vying for attention above the warnings of ships and the screeching of gulls— had overwhelmed him before he had even made it to the hotel with his uncle. 

Ignis decided, once in the relative quiet of the bustling lobby of the Leville, that he did not like Altissia. His uncle was there for business, he was there to learn from that business. He was there to see the schools and sights and learn the world beyond the peace of Tenebrae’s towering oaks and bright palaces and towers wrapped around the forest like the city had taken root there itself. He was there to see the way other provinces in the Empire lived, to learn diplomacy, and the beauty of other places that weren’t built on fields of eternal blue blossoms. 

He had decided, as he looked out over the twist and noise of the stagnant canals, that he didn’t like the city built on the waters itself. He didn’t care if one of the Six allegedly lay curled beneath the cascading, reflecting waters. He missed the lush greens of his home. 

It wasn’t until he was left in a small plaza, under the watchful eye of a guardian who was easy to slip away from as his uncle attended meetings, that Ignis felt any need to explore the city. 

He was twelve when he boarded that ferry, wary of the sway of the gangplank as he gripped the rope barriers in a white-knuckled grip. He was old enough to be away from his mother and father, under the care of his uncle as he travelled. He was old enough to investigate the splashing in the quiet waters as his minder read a book in the shade of a cafe. 

The plaza was quiet, and dull, nestled into a corner of the city that offered a view of the rising distant walls of stone that made up the cliffs of Accordo. The distant green of far away wild trees making his gut twist with homesickness, even as he approached the strange movements of the water just beyond the stone edge of the small plaza. At first, it could have just been the splash of fish— he had seen plenty of the same sort of movement in the deeper canals and watched the shadowy forms of the Altissean breeds moving through the crumbled walls that the city was built upon when the water was still and clear. It could have just been fish— with the slick midnight black-blue scales shining on the water as the surface broke. 

At least until he saw the mop of dark hair and wide eyes set in a childish face. The boy was barely younger than him, startled out of his erratic movements in the water by Ignis’ approach to the plaza’s edge. 

There was a long moment, as Ignis watched the boy— the fish’s tail not quite registering in Ignis’ sight as attached to the same person, despite the shift from pale flesh to slick scales beneath the now-calm waves. He was reminded of the fairytales of Tenebrae— of the nymphs and forest creatures he was meant to avoid, who lured people into the dark wooded depths, and were made from the woods themselves. He supposed every land had its own sort of fairytale creature that was the same. 

But this was just a boy. With wide, curious eyes. 

“Hello,” Ignis didn’t think it would be polite to draw away from the waters’ edge now. “I’m Ignis.”

The boy blinked at him, then smiled. “Hello.”

He didn’t know if it was just a mimic, or if the boy understood him. If the creature was like those of the stories of Tenebrae, who could mimic the voices of loved ones to draw their victims in. 

“I’m Noctis,” not just a mimic, then. 

There was movement in the water beyond the boy, like the wake of a boat Ignis couldn’t see. He thought he saw the quicks flash of copper-red scales below the surface, and the smiling boy— the creature named Noctis— disappeared beneath the surface again. Ignis could see him below the still waters before the darkness of the depths took him away again. Ignis knew enough about fairytales not to bother with telling his uncle; he wanted something of this strange city to belong to him, and him alone.

Ignis found, over the course of the visit, that he was watching the waters more closely now. That the bookshops and museums his uncle brought him to all had a unique collection of local stories about crystals and creatures and the ruins well below the depths of the canals. There were paintings of creatures like Noctis— adults with jagged swords and sharp teeth and sailors from the bay cut to ribbons on both. He heard eager curators talk about the creatures the same way his mother and father talked about the wood sprites and spirits in the sylleblossoms.

As if they weren’t really there, smiling up with bright blue eyes from the edge of a low plaza. 

There were levels to the city, and Ignis found that he was much preferring the lower ones. The ones that were quiet and empty during the day when the residents were away at work. The empty, narrow alleys and wide pedestrian streets that were constantly awash with coursing waves. No one minded a boy, feeting pieces of his lunch to the fish over the edge of the cafe platform nestled beneath the sweeping stone arches that held the buildings above. No one minded the boy tearing off pieces of his lunch to drop them into the water, as the adults sipped drinks and spoke of trade agreements and treaty routes and dignitary visits around him. 

Noctis seemed to dislike anything green, Ignis was finding. He seemed intrigued by a tomato, once, until sharp little teeth bit into the softness. Ignis had stifled a giggle at the look of disgust that followed. He found that Noctis had gills— soft and delicate things all along his neck, that seemed to close off when lungs were needed instead. He found that Noctis smiled often, the threat of sharp teeth easily reminding Ignis of the paintings he had seen— the ones that carried titles like “Misfortune of Sailors” and “Sirens’ Curse” where creatures like Noctis had fangs and claws buried into victims being dragged beneath tumultuous dark waves. 

He found that Noctis had a quick smile and a silent laugh. And could seem to find him anywhere he ventured in the city. 

Ignis forgot what day he was meant to leave to go back home. 

There was no time to seek out his strange friend again before he was being ushered back onto a ferry, struggling to see if Noctis was following him. To see if there was a way to say goodbye. 

It would be years before he thought to return to the city that seemed to have grown on the water. Years before he thought of the strange creatures rumoured to live in the depths of the Tidemother’s sacred waters. 

Ignis took a bouquet of dried sylleblossoms with him from home. And hung them in the window of the apartment his uncle had gifted him. He had set his books— collected from the campus shop after claiming his keys to the little apartment. He had pinned the course schedule above his rickety little desk— another gift from his uncle with the reminder that it was the one he had used when he went to the same school, and took the same courses. In a few weeks, Ignis knew that he would be writing papers and attending lectures in one of the finest political courses in Eos. He knew that the words of encouragement scrawled in his mother’s neat writing would be hollow without his determination to follow in his uncle’s careful steps. 

He knew how their disappointment will sting when they learnt that he had changed his courses on his arrival. The culinary school shared the same campus sprawl an hours’ walk through the labyrinthine city, or a short ride by boat if he chose. But he was half a world away, and their disappointment would take weeks to reach him by mail. 

He breathed in the sea-salt air and surveyed the little apartment with it’s well-stocked kitchen. 

Since he left as a child, he only remembered the city fondly. He remembered the sense of magic in the stone walls and the richness of the history. He remembered the clear depths and the little plazas, a familiar one just outside his door. His window overlooked the wide space of the bay, with its distant cliffs of green and grey, and his door opened a few steps from the cafe he remembered from his childhood adventure. 

He found that he liked to sip coffee at the edge of the water, watching the clear depths and the shadowy ruins below. He found that he liked to sit most evenings as the plaza emptied, on a stone bench with his notebook and a day’s worth or recipes and mixtures and lessons still swimming through his head. And he liked to watch the strange splashes as the fish woke and started looking for food just beyond the plaza edge. He remembered midnight black-blue scales from his childhood, and wondered if the same fish still lived in the waters of the bay. 

The splashing stopped, and he was reminded of dark hair and bright eyes and pale skin. And the sharp teeth that tore sailors apart in the paintings that still adorned most of the city. 

“Hello,” Ignis remembered those eyes. 

The creature was no longer a young boy. He was long and lean, still pale in the fading sunlight. His hair was still a dark mop, and those eyes were still the deepest blue Ignis had ever seen. “Hello, Noctis.”

“You’re Ignis?”

“Yes I am.”

And like that the creature was gone. Ignis peered over the edge of the plaza to try to spot him again, only to fall back drenched by a violent splash. His glasses slipped into the water, and Ignis sputtered as the creature resurfaced to glare at him. “That’s what you get for leaving.”

Ignis couldn’t keep the smile from his face, as he attempted to wipe water from his eyes; “I’m sorry. But I’m back now.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, I live here now.”

“Good.”

Noctis slipped away from the plaza again and Ignis waited a few moments before returning to his apartment to dry off. 

Ignis found his glasses on his windowsill the next morning. 

“Where were you?” Noctis asked from the window one evening as Ignis practised his lessons. They had found that the creature could pull himself up to the window if he wanted; could sit with his tail, long and dark trailing into the water as he reached for the offerings Ignis presented. 

“I went home, to Tenebrae.”

“Oh.”

“I am sorry, Noctis, I—”

“Noct.”

“Pardon?”

“My friends call me Noct.”

Ignis smiled at the idea that there were others like Noctis out there, that he hadn’t been alone in the ten years since he had left. He offered half of his dinner, and smiled as Noct picked around the vegetables. “I’ll take that as permission to do the same, Noct.”

He remembered that smile from his childhood. 

Noct left fish most days, when Ignis came home. He had started leaving his window open, and the fish appeared on his windowsill. He met Prompto a week after Noct started coming by to be fed. And Gladio a week after that. He started making larger meals, though it was still only Noct who appeared most days. He learnt that Noct had never been lonely, just confused by his disappearance. He learnt that Noct had been the boldest of them for some time, swimming the canals freely but still favouring this quiet corner of the strange stone city. He learnt that there was a set of ruins below the apartment that Noct had claimed years ago for his own home, and that the treasures kept there were stripped from the bones of their hunts. 

Ignis learnt not to ask about the hunts. 

He learnt that Noct liked to nap as he read by the window. That Noct liked his voice as he read letters and recipes and books. He learnt that he liked the sound of petty, brotherly banter flowing up from beneath his window as Prompto and Gladio argued over what fennel and thyme was (neither impressed when Ignis presented the herbs to them). 

He learnt that Noct was a prince. And that there was a whole kingdom of the creatures, technically. And that the dark shadow that sometimes followed the visits was named Nyx— a royal guard and guardian tasked to keep Noct out of trouble. It never worked, by the admission of all involved. Ignis found that he liked Nyx for his honesty and quick wit, if not for his opinion on the meals Ignis attempted as classes became more demanding. 

He liked that Noct still visited, and still left fresh fish at his window. 

“There are hunters in the city,” Noct had said one morning before disappearing for a week. A week where Ignis found that he was being watched by strange men from the mainland who loitered in the plaza. Who had scared his friend away. 

Ignis sent them on a chase across the city— slipped a bribe to the tipster at the cafe to sent them on a hunt that would lead them to the mansions a few levels above, with their hefty guards and less lenient rules about curfews and trespassing. 

Noct laughed when Ignis told him. 

Ignis found himself reaching for the strange, lovely creature he had grown fond of. Slipping a hand through that mop of dark hair as he watched the water ripple around the creature just outside of his window. There were rough pearls on the windowsill the next morning. 

“I like you,” Noct said, picking at a piece of chicken as he sat on the windowsill, dark tail stirring the waters. 

“I like you too, Noct.”

“And you’re sure you’re staying this time, Specs?”

“Again,” Ignis had taken a job at the cafe next door. Had started to save for his own restaurant, for when classes ended and he was expected to do something with his few years of study; “yes. I’m staying.”

“Okay.”

Ignis told him about his plans— the storefront he had selected for his restaurant and the savings he had been putting aside. He told Noct about the way he wanted to set up the place, with it’s few tables and lunch specials. The doors open to the busier streets and facing the festival plazas and arches. They argued over names together.

It was months after his courses ended when he woke for the first time since returning to the city and there was nothing at his window. The first time in the years he was there that he started to wonders in the hunters had returned, if they hadn’t given any warning, if something had happened to Noctis and his friends. He stayed close to home as he waited for some sign, and wondered if this was what it had been like when they were children. If Noctis was lost or taken or unable to return, but never had the chance to say goodbye. 

Nyx appeared at his window one night, when it was too dark, and too stormy to see much. When the water was dark and churning and the white tips of the waves made his stone floors slippery as they breached. Ignis had refused to shutter his window in the storm, in case Noct came back. In case there was news. Nyx directed him outside, into the storm and to the corner where the city had secured heavy stone planters and decorations. To where there was a small boat tethered, and a man was shivering in the wind, dressed in loose clothing too large for him. 

He knew those eyes. “Noct!”

“Hi, Specs.”

There were processes and rules. And a prince had privileges if he wanted, magics that were ancient and difficult, that could snap spines and suffocate its users. Ignis smacked his arm for scaring him, then kissed him for returning. 

“Why, Noct?” Ignis couldn’t process the difference— the missing tail with its shine and scales. Even as he settled Noct into the warmth of his bed, and let Nyx look in through the window to reassure himself that the prince was safe. 

“Because I want to stay with you.”


End file.
